


Bullet

by XxFandomTrashxX



Series: The Songs of Our Past Weigh a Heavy Toll On Our Future [1]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate ending to another fanfic I wrote, Based off a song, Depression, Drugs, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Oneshot, Suicide, Weapons, graphic death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 00:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxFandomTrashxX/pseuds/XxFandomTrashxX
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING!!! DONT READ IF YOU ARE SUICIDAL AND/OR DONT LIKE DEATH AND GORE~~~What if Sharky wasn’t able to talk him out of killing himself..?~~~~Alternate ending to a longer fanfic I’m working on~~~~Based on Bullet by Hollywood Undead





	Bullet

 The wind adds to the pain as the cold air nips at his ankles. He takes a swig of his alcohol, his tongue to numb and his vision to hazy to make out what he was drinking. He bought gin, vodka, and whiskey.... he thinks it’s gin, but he’s not sure... he’s not sure of anything anymore. He’s drunken a couple bottles of something, he knows that... the empty bottles surround him as well as the empty canisters that once held pills. Sleeping pills, pain pills, pills for nausea... he should be dead soon.

 He swings his legs around, increasing the pain, I mean, it’s not like he’s undeserving of it. He finishes the bottle, throwing it behind him with a clatter as it knocks into the other bottles and concrete, shattering on impact. He reaches over to grab a new one, slipping a little closer to the edge of the building. 

 There are sirens blaring in the distance, he can see the flickering lights better than hear the noise. They park at the bottom, rushing out of their assigned vehicles. Ambulance, firemen, even the sheriff, he assumes that Joey and Staci are on their was... he knew he should’ve went up the ladder in the back, cause now he cornered in, no way but down... but not yet, no no no no, he needs to drag the pain out longer, John and everything he did to harm him, he was a puny Omega, and a sinner too, he was the bitch, John was his master, and he abandoned him, he had to fend for himself... and even before, John abused him.

 He picks the knife Jacob gave him on one of their double date/hunting expeditions, letting the blade dance along his skin before burying it in the flesh. _To numb. No pain._ He lets out a frustrated noise before moving along his arm and slicing deeper, repeating the action until his vision got hazy.

~~~~

  _Gun, he has a gun. He picks it up, messing with the barrel, dragging it against his skin, temptation weighing heavy on his tongue as it reached his temple, he pushes hard against it, toying with the trigger. The barrel had three bullets out of six. Fifty-fifty chance, nice._

_The cold metal rested against his temple as he cocked it, slowly pulling the trigger._

_Click._

_He sighed and pointed it at a nearby wall, cocking and pulling the trigger._

_Boom!_

_Two out of four chance._

_Skull, cock the gun, click._

_Wall, cock the gun, click._

_No way he’s getting out of this one, two shots, two bullets._

_He pulls his shaky hand back, cold meeting his skin again, he pulls the hammer back, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling the trigger. Darkness consumes him._

_~~~~~_

No no no no, not a good death, not dragged out enough, not enough suffering, not... not  ** _memorable,_** no, not in the least. He can see a little clearer now, the bleeding having subsided for the most part.

 Sharky was pulling up? Dusty doesn’t care, not at all, not with what John did, no, it was too much, way too much.

 Someone was talking, he couldn’t hear it well over the ringing in his ears.  _pills, alcohol, blood loss._  

 Sharky was coming up, no, not now, it’s almost over, let it end, let it die, it’s not worth it. He’s approaching... not slow, but not fast.

 Dusty wraps his hand around his gun, pointing it at the older man, tense and shaky, “Don’t move...” he said, voice even, contradicting his posture and emotions.

 Sharky stops in his tracks, holding his hands up as he watched the blood drip down his arm before his eyes started flickering between the gun and what he could see of his face. “C’mon man... please put the gun down, we can talk about this...” he said, tone wavering.

 Dusty looked over at him, “What is there to talk about? I don’t wanna keep up this facade, Charlemagne, no, I’m sick I’ve being taken advantage of,” he smiles emptily, he knew it wouldn’t help, but it was worth a shot, “John, he left me to fend for myself, I can’t... somebody’s gonna take advantage of such an opportunity, I’m an Omega, not just an Omega, but one that was supposedly important to someone that’s extremely popular... and even before, he-... he fucking...-“ he stops himself, smile fading, he sighs, taking a drink from his bottle, his gun dropping slightly. “Y’know, he was the only person who said they loved me that’s still alive, and I fucked it up, it’s all over because of me, I’m just done...” he chuckles, switching his bottle for his blade, he puts it against his neck, making a hissing noise as he drags it across, pulling it away to reveal the blood now dotting the cut. “I put up with his shit for so long, not wanting to ruin what I had...” he started, standing and stumbling over to Sharky, he stood beside him, dropping his arm with the gun to his side and plopping it in the holster. He pulled the arm with the knife up and let the bloody blade dance along his jaw and neck, always careful not to pierce the flesh, no no no, not him, he wasn’t already hurt, no need to inflict pain on others. “Why should I stay on this accursed planet, when death is oh so alluring..?” He all but purrs.

 “S-Staci...” Sharky stutters, swallowing and pressing his Adam’s apple against the weapon.

 Dusty winces slightly at the mention of the older man, promises he had made to his brother and the times he had to live up to that promise flashing behind his eyes. He pushes the side of the blade against the taller mans skin, chuckling at the hiss he made from the cold before walking back over to where he was sitting before. He messes with his knife, small smile gracing his lips as he watches the sun sink behind the mountains. He steps on the ledge, turning around “Can you make sure you take care of him? Jacobs an ass, so don’t get to close...” He sheathed his blade as he spoke, “Thanks, Boshaw, but I’m really tired, I just need some rest...” he sighed, jumping backwards off the edge. His life flashed before his eyes, a loud crunch being the last thing he heard before he welcomed the darkness with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I changed some of it and added others for this one to make it more interesting, hope you enjoyed!
> 
> ~~~~
> 
> Rewrite of chapter 11 of my other story, The One That Stayed, link below
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18296024/chapters/43303979


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